I Still Miss You
by Harry's Mum Lily
Summary: It's the anniversary of the Potter's death and what is Harry thinking? Post GoF


# I'll Always Miss You

## A Harry Potter FanFic

By: Harry's Mum Lily

Disclaimer: This is my first Fanfic here though I've been reading and reviewing under another name for some time. Please read and review. Thank you!

He had a powerful kind of ache inside him, half joy, half terrible sadness.

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter 12

Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.

Albus Dumbledore

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Chapter 35

Fifteen-year-old Harry Potter stood at the gravesite of his parents, longing and deep sorrow etched on his face and his heart twisted in one large knot of grief. He stared at the stone that marked their grave, a tear glistening as it made its burning trail down his cheek, and wondered why he'd taken so long to ask about where his parents were buried. He could still see the look of shock on Dumbledore's face when he'd asked. Every since the maze last term he'd been unable to get the vision of his parents out of his mind and it was this that had prompted his question. Somehow he felt that it was time to go there, to finally grieve for the family he'd lost to Voldemort's reign of terror 14 years before. He kept dreaming of his parents and their last night. The time had come for him to face his grief and try to work through it. He'd never told anyone but ever since the maze he'd been feeling depressed and lost. He'd seen his parents come from Voldemort's wand and in that moment their deaths became "real" to him. He'd never thought much about the events surrounding the night his parents were murdered before except when the Dementor's had been around but now he could not stop thinking of it. 

The old nightmare had come back with a vengeance and now he woke up trembling with fear, his eyes streaming tears. He could remember very little of the events of Halloween night 1981…the memories he did have came to him in flashes…but for all that the memories of that night were hazy at best they still had the power to haunt him. He had found himself this term being reminded of them everywhere he looked and went at Hogwarts. He seemed to see them or to hear their voices, almost as if they had become one with the very walls of the school. The last task of the Triwizard Tournament he touched him deeper then anyone had suspected at the end of last year. Both Ron and Hermione had noticed that he seemed more introspective then last year and all of the professors noticed that he seemed to be a bit more distracted then usual. He went through the motions of life but with no feeling, almost as if he were elsewhere. He talked to his friends, went to his classes, had fights with Malfoy and his gang, and practiced Quidditch but he seemed to be withdrawn and his heart didn't seem to be in it anymore. Everyone thought that he was thinking about Voldemort and all the killings that had been done in his name but the truth was that he could not even think of Voldemort not when his heart was in such pain, not when he recall nothing of his life with his parents beyond their last frightened moments. He wished for some other memory of them, for a memory of any night other than the one on which they had died. A memory of the three of them together.

He lay on his bed three days before the anniversary of their deaths and cried because of his lack of memories of them. He'd just had the same nightmare again: he heard his parents voices full of fear, heard the sound of someone stumbling from a room, saw dark, indistinct shapes and a flash of green light as his parents were taken from him. He also heard Voldemort's laughter, cold and cruel and heard his faint hissing voice say: "Soon Potter…Your time will come soon." Then a thought came to him. Maybe all the nightmares and the numbness he was feeling were caused not by the fact that they had died but were instead caused by the knowledge that he'd never been allowed to say goodbye, never allowed himself to let go of the grief completely, and that he'd never even been to either the ruins of the house or to their final resting place. He'd never even bothered to ask where they were buried. Suddenly the need to say goodbye to them became overwhelming, it became all he could think of the next day. He need to find some closure, had to deal with the grief he was carrying before it destroyed him. He spent the day unable to concentrate on anything and with a dull ache in his heart. Finally, when he could stand it no longer, he'd sought out Dumbledore his question…

Now he found himself standing alone at their grave, his body shaking with silent sobs. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and he didn't bother to wipe them away as he reached out to touch the stone that marked their last resting place. He traced the names upon it and the date on which he'd lost them forever: 31 October 1981 as if by touching the date would help him deal with his pent up grief. Standing there he tried to call to mind a single happy memory of his parents, a memory of when they had all been together, but there was nothing. He sat down on a worn bench and cried brokenly, his tears blurring the words, which glowed like molten silver, on the stone.

In Loving and Eternal Memory

of

James PotterandLily Potter

Born: 15 April 1957Born: 31 July 1957

Died: 31 October 1981

They died as they lived

May their memory never dim

The words on the marker seemed to mock Harry. He had no memory of them at all.

"Why…? Why them…? Why us…?" he whispered brokenly. "Why was I left alone with no memory of their love and kindness? Why was I left with only the memory of their last moments?"

He threw himself face down on the bench and cried as if his heart was breaking for it felt as if had shattered within his chest. The wind began to blow harder, ruffling his already untidy hair, his scar becoming visible. The wind seemed to have a mournful sound as it rustled through the boughs of the weeping willow tree that grew over his parent's grave and the bench. Its branches seemed to be reaching out to touch him as if it understood his sorrow and wanted offer some comfort of its own. Finally, his sobbing subsided and Harry's body grew still. He had cried himself to sleep.

It was nearing the hour of midnight, the exact hour the Potters had fallen defending the boy who lay in motionless sleep at their grave and as the hour drew nearer, the winds keening voice grew louder and the willow's branches began to thrash around wildly. Harry noticed none of this: he remained where he lay, his face turned slightly to the side and his breathe deep and even. 

"Mum…Dad…I miss you…I will always miss you…" he mumbled in his sleep.

The nearby church belles rang the hour of midnight, twelve chimes that echoed through the graveyard, reverberating off the marble headstones. As each successive bell tolled, a flicker of light that had appeared near the Potter's grave at the first bell's tolling began to grow stronger and stronger until the shimmering light resolved itself into the ghostly figures of two people: James and Lily Potter. They looked down at the sleeping form of their only child and noticed the tears that caused his face to glisten in the moonlight. Lily knelt before Harry's sleeping form and reached her hand out to brush s tear away from his pale face. James put his hand on her shoulder and wiped tears of his own away as he gazed with longing at Harry.

"We're so sorry, Harry…Sorry for everything you've had to endure…Sorry that we could be together …that we couldn't stay…" Lily whispered softly. "But it had to happen… it was meant to be…"

He voice trailed off into a sob and tears began to fall down her face. 

"Why…?" Harry muttered in his sleep, startling his parents until they realized that he was still sound asleep.

Lily and James exchanged glances and then James said: " We had to leave you behind, Harry…There was no choice."

"We had to save you, don't you see. Our time here was finished but yours…yours was just beginning. The world had need of a hero and the world still needs you, even now," Lily said as she gazed into his sleeping face.

"…need you too…Miss you…"

"And we miss you…but Fate made other plans for us. We were fated to give our lives defending you and you were fated to survive that encounter with Voldemort so that you could have the chance to face him again in a time and place of your own choosing. You can understand why we had to do as we did, can't you Harry…I couldn't…we couldn't bear it if…"

James and Lily were both on their knees near Harry, tears running like silver down their cheeks.

Harry smiled and then said so quietly that they could barely hear it: "Love you…"

"We love you, Harry but we cannot stay much longer…" began James.

"…won't loose…again!" Harry exclaimed while stretching his hand out toward where they were kneeling. 

"You can't loose us ever, Harry. We are always with you. We live on in you," James said. " Remember that in the dark days ahead."

"We are not as far away as you might think. We are still here to watch over you, to keep you safe until you are ready to face Voldemort alone."

Lily reached out to clasp one of Harry's hands in her own and James did the same.

"We leave you now with our final gift to you, something that you've wanted your whole life long…"

They closed their eyes and began to glow brightly. For a moment it was as bright as day and the other headstones reflected this glow back to the Potter's. Then they and the glow were gone as suddenly as if they had not been and the wind diminished as well. Harry slept on, undisturbed by all this and as he slept he dreamed. He dreamed of his parents before that fatal night, of the happiness and joy they found in life and in him, of all the love they had shown him in their brief time together. He dreamed of all the good times and so in dreaming he began at long last to heal. 

He awoke when the sun rode high in the sky and felt refreshed and his heart was lighter then it had been before. He couldn't remember the conversation he'd had with his parents but he could feel their love surrounding him, warm and comforting like the sun. He had at last found what he'd been seeking all of his life…a family he could remember…a family that was not merely pictures in an album…a family that had lived and then died for love of him.


End file.
